


Turns to Gold

by GreyMichaela



Series: Winnipeg Jets [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, just two idiots being dumb and in love, no redeeming value
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: “You never take care of yourself,” Brandon says, attempting to sound casual.“That’s why I have you,” Adam retorts, smile widening.“Ugh.” Brandon snatches his hand back. “I’m not a housewife, Lowry.”Adam’s still smiling at him, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Brandon shiver.“Driving,” he says in an attempt to forestall whatever Adam is planning. “In public. Don’t eventhinkabout it.”





	Turns to Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy, pointless coda to Everything You Touch from Brandon's POV.
> 
> Real people, work of fiction, etc.

Brandon has the feeling that he’s smiling like an idiot, but every time he tries to wipe it off his face, it creeps back within minutes. Beside him in the car, Adam is looking at his phone, muttering under his breath. Brandon wants to touch him, so he takes one hand off the steering wheel and does, a finger against Adam’s thigh. Adam captures his hand without looking and brings it to his mouth.

After a minute, he locks his phone and shoves it back in his pocket. “Sorry, my mom always wants to make sure I’m taking care of myself on away games.” He kisses Brandon’s fingers, grinning at him, and heat curls in Brandon’s belly.

“You never take care of yourself,” he says, attempting to sound casual. 

“That’s why I have you,” Adam retorts, smile widening.

“Ugh.” Brandon snatches his hand back. “I’m not a housewife, Lowry.”

Adam’s still smiling at him, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Brandon shiver.

“Driving,” he says in an attempt to forestall whatever Adam is planning. “In public. Don’t even  _ think _ about it.”

“Oh, I’m thinking about it,” Adam murmurs. He slouches against the door and Brandon glances briefly at him. Adam is  _ palming _ himself, eyes hot and dark, and Brandon swears, clutching the wheel with both hands. He speeds up as much as he dares, doing his best not to look away from the road.

“If we die in a fiery wreck, you’re never getting my mouth on your cock,” he points out.

Adam arches his back, head resting against the glass. “Fuck, Brandon, you think  _ I’m  _ a tease?”

Brandon focuses on getting them back to his apartment as quickly as possible.

 

They don’t touch as they unload their bags from the trunk, mindful of being in the public eye. But the second the elevator doors close, Brandon’s in Adam’s arms, kissing his way up his throat with hungry nips and licks. He can taste salt and soap on Adam’s skin and he feels almost drunk with arousal as Adam groans and grabs his chin, tilting his head up to capture his mouth.

Brandon’s dreamed of this for so long, he’s still not entirely sure he’s not imagining everything. But Adam is solid and heavy against him, smelling faintly like milky coffee, and Brandon’t definitely not imagining the crick in his neck from the way he has to crane to reach Adam’s mouth.

He breaks away and presses his forehead to Adam’s collarbone on a breathless laugh. “You’re so tall,” he says into his shirt.

“Sorry?” Adam says, arms around Brandon’s shoulders. He sounds amused but also out of breath, Brandon is gratified to note. “I can get you a step stool if you want.”

Brandon punches him in the side and Adam doubles over with laughter on a wheeze as the doors slide open. 

Inside Brandon’s apartment, they drop their bags and stand for a moment, a few feet apart. Brandon takes his time looking at Adam, feeling no urgency for once. Adam just looks back at him, a half-smile on his face. His hair is falling over his forehead and he needs to shave. His eyes look tired, clothes rumpled, and Brandon loves him so much it’s like a vibration through his bones, a buzz under his skin.

“Come to bed,” he says, and Adam follows him down the hall.

“Do you want to sleep?” Brandon asks in the bedroom.

Adam gives him an incredulous look. 

“Just checking,” Brandon says, fighting a smile. “It was a long flight. If you want to wait—”

Adam’s on him before he can finish the sentence, bowling them over onto the bed. Brandon lands with a grunt but Adam’s already pulling his shirt out of his pants, his hands cold from the outside and making Brandon gasp and squirm with breathless laughter. 

The laughter cuts off with a jolt when Adam gets his zipper down and slips one hand inside, cupping Brandon through his underwear. His eyes are steady on Brandon’s face as he strokes small circles with just his thumb on the head of his cock.

“Ah, fuck—” Brandon arches his back as Adam slides off the bed to land on the floor between his spread legs.

“I want to blow you,” he says, looking up through his lashes. 

Brandon props himself on an elbow and looks down at him. He reaches out and cups Adam’s cheek with his other hand and Adam smiles, turning to plant a kiss on the palm.

“Have you done this before?” Brandon asks curiously. He lifts his hips as Adam tugs at his pants, working them off over his thighs and dropping them to the floor.

Adam shrugs. “Couple of times. I’m better at handies, but I want to practice.”

“As long as you don’t use teeth, you can practice on me all you want.”

Adam’s grin is wide and happy. He lowers his head and blows gently across the head of Brandon’s cock, making him jerk.

Brandon lets himself fall back to the bed and drapes an arm over his eyes. As much as he wants to watch, it’ll be over in a red-hot second if he has to  _ see _ Adam with his mouth stuffed full of Brandon’s cock, his eyes glazed and lips red and wet—

He jams his fist against his mouth as Adam  _ licks _ the tip and then blows on it again.

_ “Christ, _ Adam—”

Adam takes pity on him and swallows him down, slinging one long arm across Brandon’s hips to hold in place even as Brandon bucks up with a wordless shout. 

For all his talk about needing practice, Adam seems to know exactly what to do to drive Brandon out of his mind. He uses his tongue, swirling it against the sensitive underside and licking long stripes up the shaft. Then he wraps one hand around it and begins to stroke as he sinks lower, breath hot on Brandon’s balls. His hand doesn’t stop as he lightly sucks one ball and then the other into his mouth, getting them thoroughly wet.

Brandon clutches at the bedspread as Adam slings his leg over a shoulder and presses his nose to the cleft of his ass. The angle’s wrong for him to get anywhere, but Brandon can feel the butterfly tickle of his tongue and the thought of it is enough to push him over the edge.

He seizes up when he comes, spilling hot and sticky on his stomach as Adam jacks him through it, slowly gentling his strokes until Brandon’s a boneless puddle on the bed.

Then he drops a kiss to the tip, making Brandon twitch feebly, and stands up. 

Brandon watches, suffused with pleasure and contentment, as Adam strips and climbs on top of him, straddling his thighs. When he bends to kiss him, Brandon kisses back willingly, lost in a mindless haze, and Adam laughs against his mouth.

“You’re sex-dumb,” he says, nipping Brandon’s lower lip.

Brandon hums agreement and somehow gets his body to cooperate enough that he gets a hand on Adam’s cock, flushed dark red and curving toward his stomach.

Adam shivers, head falling back, but after a minute, he gently bats Brandon’s hand away and replaces it with his own. His eyes are dark as he stares down at him, hips rolling into his grasp.

“God, you’re—” Adam groans. “So fucking hot, Bran. I can’t—I’m gonna come,  _ fuck—” _ He hunches his shoulders, bending forward to brace himself with a hand by Brandon’s head as hot jets splash Brandon’s belly.

Adam laughs, a shaky, wondering noise, and collapses like his arm gave out. He buries his face in Brandon’s neck and shudders through the aftershocks, body twitching.

Brandon strokes the hair off his forehead and presses a kiss to it, and Adam responds with a kiss to Brandon’s throat.

“Would you have ever said anything?” he asks after a minute.

“Hm?” Brandon has to struggle to bring his brain back online. “About what?”

“Me,” Adam says, lifting his head. “Us. Would you have ever made a move, if the team hadn’t locked us in a bathroom to talk our shit out?”

Brandon almost laughs. “I thought you were straight, Adam.”

“So that’s a no?”

He gets a real laugh that time. “That’s a no,” Brandon agrees. “Why would I go after a straight guy? Been there, done that.”

Adam narrows his eyes but doesn’t push. Instead he bends and kisses him again, soft and sweet. “I guess we should send those assholes a fruit basket or something, then.”

“Or something,” Brandon says, grinning, and kisses him back.

**Author's Note:**

> There's really no point to this but [ come give me headcanons about them anyway](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title is from the other half of the Jukebox the Ghost song Simple as 1 2 3.


End file.
